


The long road from freedom

by Brynnen, TwaCorbies (Brynnen)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Bleak, Bodhi remains adorable, Galen tries to do the right thing, Gen, Grooming, and not just to yourself, doing the right thing whatever the cost, even if he is being radicalised by Galen, from one point of view anyway, not exactly life-affirming, report this guy to Channel!, seriously nearly four years pass in-story if you look at Jynn's age, the rebels are terrorists, there are no friendships without ulterior motives, very slow progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 04:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12204333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynnen/pseuds/Brynnen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynnen/pseuds/TwaCorbies
Summary: How did Galen come to trust Bodhi to do the right thing?How did Bodhi come to contemplate desertion?





	The long road from freedom

**Author's Note:**

> This came about as a result of some anti radicalisation training I had to complete where potential offenders are hopefully diverted away from terrorism before they break the law or cause harm. As I was working through the training I started drawing parallels between the case studies and Rogue One. As you do.

Life had forced Galen Erso to accept the circumstances in which he found himself, adapt and work within them. He had become very good at adapting and making do over the course of his life, especially so over the past decade of Imperial captivity. The DS1 project was an entirely new circumstance to which he had to adapt, plan for and resist.

  
Galen kept his facial expression neutral as he looked through the existing plans, Moff Tarkin's orders and the roster of engineers and scientists he'd be heading up during this 'Death Star' project. Others had tried and failed before him, people whom he respected as fine intellects. The project was highly ambitious and his once friend Orson Krennic's fingerprints were all over it. Orson had always had much larger dreams than an architect perhaps ought. Galen refocussed on the plans before him and recognised sections of his own work, projects he'd been ordered to complete with no context but his work around khyber crystals' energy production. His work to eke out every last useable vibration of energy from the rocks wasn't being used to improve lives, but to power this genocide device.

  
For the Empire to give him the project as a whole, with all it implied indicated they must be getting desperate. Why was it so important for this to be done? Was the Empire's position more precarious than he had been allowed to realise? Was Orson's ambition reaching fever pitch? Whatever the reason, the desperation inherent in the creation of such an insane device made Galen quail. This could not be allowed to exist!

  
With a technological and martial advantage of this magnitude even the thought of rebellion might be suicide. The last strongholds of rebellion would be vapouried, their very atoms scattered to the solar winds, along with everyone else that happened to be on the same planet.

  
He could stall it - no one else had the knowledge, especially across as many fields as he had - but Galen Erso's brilliance was widely known, he'd have to be seen to make progress or his captors would be suspicious and the punishments would resume until Grand Moff Tarkin believed his spirit to be sufficiently broken to serve his needs.

  
Someone or something external would have to stop this evil on his behalf then. His team, his neighbours, the technical advisors whose brains he occasionally picked were all carefully vetted by his captors; so he would have to choose carefully. Galen wondered if Saw was still alive and kicking, still fighting the Empire. The big man had helped him escape once; giving Saw intel on this project would allow the man to throw considerable (by rebel standards anyway) resources at the problem. Perhaps even Jynn might.... Galen closed his eyes in pain at that thought, even after all these years he ached at the thought of her. Oh Stardust! She'd be what, seventeen now?

  
So Galen kept his ears and eyes open for information and clues on how he might get information out to the rebellion, to hopefully avert this horror before Grand Moff Tarkin used it to slaughter whole planets. As he worked he could feel eyes on him everywhere he went. Galen's pacifism was well-known. They must know he'd try to subvert the plan one way or another. So he let his shoulders slump, eyes staring vacantly into the distance and let them see the horror he felt at what he was being forced to do.

  
Let them think he was beaten. Galen had abandoned what pride he had years ago when they'd recaptured him and he'd submitted to the might of the Empire to keep them searching for his baby girl.

  
Weeks passed and Galen discovered that even a coded transmission from Eadu would be discovered; even from a non-Imperial broadcasting array. He tried to find ways around it, misleading message trails, encryptions, different wavelengths and yet other techniques. The problem was that either the solution was sufficiently facile for his captors to intercept or so complex he doubted the rebellion would be able to decode and act upon his message.

  
So it would have to be a message and conveyed by someone whose work took them to Jedha frequently enough not to arouse suspicion. Galen twitched back into full awareness and caught Orson's eye, realised he'd been string into his long-cold mug of caf and hastily drained it. 'What's up?' he asked his once friend, not caring how gravelly his voice sounded.

  
Orson shook his head, smirking at the wreck of a man before him. Galen had always been too soft to truly excel in the harsh universe they inhabited. 'Get some sleep, Erso. You look like you'll drop at any moment. While your dedication is commendable, this project is too important for you to jeopardise with self-neglect. AP672! Escort Dr Erso to his quarters and make sure he rests!'

  
Orson returned his gaze to Galen after commanding the trooper by the door. Something in eyes softened momentarily at the sight Galen made as if he too remembered their student days together. 'Get some rest, Galen. I expect to see you back here at the beginning of gamma shift bright and early!'

  
Galen wondered if Orson was actually still capable of sleeping without the horror of what they were engineering giving him nightmares. Stars knew he hadn't had a decent night's sleep since he'd watched the light fade from Lyra's eyes....

  
The canteen was nearly empty when Galen came for the meal he was arbitrarily denoting as lunch, coming as it did in the middle of his second (or was it third?) back-to-back shift. Orson had evidently guessed he was contemplating rebellion and was trying to keep him too busy to act upon the impulse. Tarkin would have had him summarily shot, but Orson always had thought he knew better. He probably did to read his intent so easily. Galen resolved to be better at this.

  
There was one other person in the canteen, a slim youth dithering over the two congealing vats of theoretically hot food. Galen moved past him with his tray to pour a large mug of caf and pick up a couple of the ration bars that were the only palatable option when the epsilon shift cook wasn't working. For the youth to even be considering the 'hot' options told Galen he must be a rookie.

  
He'd just unwrapped the allegedly savoury bar to begin eating when the stranger dropped into the seat across from him and cautiously sniffed at the bowl of gi dumpling soup he'd selected.

  
'I hope you don't mind me sitting here, but I've spent ten days on my own bringing in a ship-ful of supplies here from Raq'sha.' His voice was soft, tentative as the admission of loneliness went unspoken.

  
'That's fine. I could do with some conversation with someone who isn't a scientist for a change.' Galen summoned a touch of amicability that he didn't feel, his heart jumping in excitement at a pilot almost literally falling into his lap. 'What's your name, then?'

  
'Oh, 'scuse my manners! Transport pilot Ensign Rook! Pleased to meet you!' He stretched across the table to offer a hand.

  
Galen accepted the hand, warm and calloused. It was the first time someone had voluntarily touched him since... since an experiment had exploded and the medic had held him in place to clean and seal his wounds. He roused from the memory and cleared his throat. 'Galen Erso, Science and Engineering Division. So, what's Raq'sha like at this point of its rotation?' He asked to direct the boy away from remembering that outsiders weren't meant to speak with him.

  
The Ensign twitched his shoulders in a nervy shrug. 'I was in the southern hemisphere, it's winter there. I spent the whole time shivering!' He rubbed his arms for warmth. Galen let him chatter nervously about the icy polar vortices that made landing difficult, the spiced breadsticks that were the local delicacy, the ice sculptures decorating the park and the inadequacy of his coat against the icy winds.

  
It had been years since Galen had been allowed banal conversation like this and he realised that it was going to take some time to craft this wet-behind-the-ears boy into the messenger Galen needed him to be. Galen knew he'd be able to delay the project, but would it be for long enough to get this ensign to do the right thing?

  
So it was that erratically, without an obvious discernable pattern he allowed more chance encounters with the pilot to happen.

  
On the fourth meeting Galen greeted him first. 'Ensign Rook.'

  
'Ah, call me Bodhi, please, Dr Erso!'' He wrung his hands anxiously, one foot audibly hammering away in a nervous twitch that made Galen suppress a twitch of irritation. 'I hope your classified project is going well, even if you aren't allowed to say anything about it.' He sounded surprisingly chipper about it and Galen was impressed the lad had intuited why Galen never shared stories of his own work.

  
Bodhi was clearly lonely, a lowly transport and cargo pilot who spent days on end alone in space and even here on Eadu was clearly isolated. Good, Galen could exploit that. Just offer a few more crumbs of friendliness to coax him into loyalty before starting to mould his ideology and start training him. His isolation meant it would probably take longer than it would with someone a little more socially adroit.

  
On the sixth meeting Bodhi put down his cup of Cassius Tea (strange that a Jedhan was so fond of Mandalorian cuisine), glanced about to ensure they were unobserved before pulling a paper bag from the thigh pocket of his crumpled pilot's uniform.

  
Galen accepted the small bag in confusion and saw that it was full of some kind of confectionary, each sweet individually wrapped in gaily coloured cellophane. 'Thank-you.'

  
Bodhi shrugged off the thanks with a duck of his head and hunched his shoulders. 'What's the point in being friends with a pilot if you can't enjoy the main perk of the friendship - exciting new kinds of sweets!'

  
Dammit, why couldn't Galen have picked an arsehole to be his messenger? Someone he wouldn't have regretted sending to Saw's suspicion and violent interrogations. Instead he'd picked the only softheated Imperial he'd ever set eyes upon, Krennic would laugh at him for this if he found out (before ordering yet another beating and short rations). His old classmate had always been better at manipulating people than he.

  
Galen thanked Bodhi and let him ramble on about Tranna Nougat Creams and his ambition to one day taste the famously difficult to make confections. He tasted one of the candies and couldn't suppress the smile the gesture gave him.

  
It took six months of occassional, 'accidental' meetings in the canteen or around the base before Galen decided to make the next step. Work on the Death Star was painfully slow as technical problems reared their ugly heads and Galen slowly but surely moved an exhaust port to a location that admittedly would be much better for venting heat, but also introduced a structural weakness that Saw would be able to take advantage of.

  
'You know, you remind me of my daughter - she'd be...' He paused to do the maths in his head and reeled at how many years he'd spent as a prisoner. 'She'd be almost nineteen now.'

  
'What's her name? She must be clever having you as a father.' Bodhi's voice warmed at being entrusted with such an important part of Galen's past. No, the boy was absolutely not a BuIntel plant - even a professional couldn't fake that sort of innocence.

  
Galen let himself smile as he held her image in his mind's eye. 'Jyn, her name is Jyn and she always took more after my wife Lyra than me. She's practical, strong-willed but also kind. I had to leave her with an old friend when I joined this project.'

  
It was nice to be able to talk about Jyn, even as he used her to really humanise himself in Bodhi's eyes, replacing the rumours of defection, untrustworthiness with the image of a devoted father, one he hadn't actually always been.

  
Gradually Bodhi's twitch lessened around him and Galen showed him how to repair and modify comms systems, a useful skill for both a pilot and defector. Bodhi had been grateful to the lessons when he'd been marooned floating in space for six days after a Rebel strike on his ship and he'd had to cobble a radio out of the charred remains of his cockpit.

  
Encryption and decryption came next in the shape of puzzles. Bodhi looked up at Galen, the picture of puzzlement as he looked at the datacube he was turning over in his hands.

  
'To while away the long hours in transit or when waiting for the engineers to finish refitting your ship. Much more fun and interesting than staring into space.' Galen told him jovially. 'Consider it thinks for...' He patted the packet of Bama Bars that Bodhi had somehow guessed were his favourite candy.

  
Bodhi had grinned, then begged for more and more difficult puzzles to amuse himself with after a ten-day journey in which he'd run out and had started divising his own codes.

  
Bodhi's training was coming along well, he'd started learning how to hack computers by the time Galen judged him ready for the next stage of his ideological training (Galen was starting to struggle to slow progress on the weapon enough). Previously Galen had kept it very subtle, mentioning such and such a place which had been recently acquired by the Empire or noting a particularly egregious episode of malfeasance on their part. It wasn't affecting Bodhi's ideology fast enough.

  
It was taking time to build flaws into the design, enough that hitting the reactor inlet would actually cause a chain reaction of distruction across the entire structure, but Galen could tell Orson was losing patience. He had to prepare Bodhi to take whatever message he could to Saw.

  
Galen seized the first opportunity he saw. Bodhi had just returned from transporting a squadron of Stormtroopers to put down some kind of minor rebellion. That kind of job always sickened the boy to his stomach and Galen decided to strike while the iron was hot. He found Bodhi out in Eadu's near-permanent rain.

  
'What have they done? Oh Force, they mowed them all down.' At the sound of Galen's boots on plascrete he straightened from his miserable hunch and Galen knew just how to twist the knife of guilt in Bodhi's gut. He quashed the rising guilt by reminding himself how many billions would be saved by his sacrificing this one youth.

  
He placed a gentle hand on Bodhi's shoulder. 'Can you say you played no part in this?' He kept his voice soft. 'You know what became of your cargo. What other outcome could there be?'

  
Bodhi collapsed under his had, curling inwards with horror at what he'd seen. Galen wondered if the pilot was strong enough to do what Galen needed him to do. So long as he got the message to Saw or his Partisans, it would be enough.

  
Galen kept his hand there, but didn't make any move to soothe the boy. He felt the change, the sobbing turning to a full-bodied tremor as he made the decision Galen had spent almost two years priming him for.

  
Bodhi straightened up and met Galen's eye with a determined set to his quivering shoulders - Galen had to wonder how someone who trembled almost constantly could hold a ship so steady in space?

  
'We've got to stop them, we've got to do something.'

  
Galen warmed in satisfaction. 'I know a man on Jedha. His name is Saw Gerrera. He could use the knowledge I have to fight them, but I can't leave here.'

  
Bodhi met his gaze, terror swimming in his deep brown eyes, but he gave a firm nod. 'What do you want me to do?'


End file.
